


Girls Your Age

by hangmanhands



Series: bdsmber prompt fills [4]
Category: Haven (TV), Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Coming Out, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, High School AU, NSFW, bdsmber, big crossover, day 4 - praise, outside trailer walls, transgender sam winchester, winchester!stiles stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 16:12:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16857208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hangmanhands/pseuds/hangmanhands
Summary: BDSMber Day 4: Praise. Duke Crocker (Haven)/Sam Winchester (Supernatural for kermiethefrog. Stiles Stilinski is the youngest Winchester in this au.Duke finds Sam on his stoop when he gets home from work. Sam has a confession to make.





	Girls Your Age

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kermiethefrog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kermiethefrog/gifts).



Duke Crocker and Sam Winchester are neighbors. They live in the same trailer park, the distance between their front doors is about thirty feet, and the Winchesters have lived across the dirt alley long enough that Duke knows that Mr. Winchester and his oldest son are gone at least as often as they’re home. Duke knows that the youngest Winchester piles into the same black BMW that the Parrish boy does as soon as they leave. 

Duke knows that these things leave Sam as alone as he is.

Duke’s not surprised to find that Sam is on his stoop when he gets back from his shift on old man Poindexter’s boat. The Impala is gone and the tire tracks have been mostly blown from the dirt by the wind, or replaced by the tread of the BMW’s tires. He would have been more surprised if Sam wasn’t over.

“Hey, Sam,” Duke says, unlocking the door so Sam can duck under his arm and scurry inside, drop himself on the couch. It’s possible, Duke notes as Sam brushes past, that he smells like fish, but he can’t really tell anymore. Poindexter’s boat is good practice for when he gets one of his own, but the fishing part is extraneous. Duke thinks it’s nasty, but no one else will hire him. He lets the screen door shut behind him and doesn’t bother with the other. It’s summer and the airco is broken and he doesn’t have the money to fix it. He kicks his boots off next to the door. “What’s up? Can I get you a beer, or something?”

Sam nods, motions jerky. His lips are pursed, jaw tight. “A beer-a beer would be nice. Would be good.” He swallows. He’s more nervous than Duke has seen him since the first time Sam asked if they could kiss. His hands weren’t shaking then.

Duke walks into the kitchen and gets two beers. He breaks out the Landshark because Sam looks like he could use a brew that’s easy to stomach, and, anyway, it’s about time for his mom to come by and take the monthly welfare check, not to mention anything else she can get her hands on. He comes back, sticking the top between his back teeth to pop the cap off on the way, spitting it in the general direction of the TV. He hands the beer to Sam. 

Weakly, Sam says, “Thanks,” and takes it.

“No problem, Buddy,” Duke says. He takes his plaid overshirt off and uses it to pat sweat from his neck. He sits on the table and opens his own beer. “So,” he says. “What’s on your mind?”

Sam immediately takes a big sip of his beer. For courage, Duke muses. Sam runs his hand over his mouth. “Listen, Duke,” he says. “I’m,” he laughs. “I haven’t even told Dean what I’m about to tell you, so. If you don’t mind.”

Duke mimes zipping his lips, locking them, throwing away the key. “Sealed up tight, so no worries.”

Sam gives Duke an unsteady half smile. “Thanks.” He rolls the beer bottle between his palms like stubborn clay. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for a while, for hours, actually. I think I ought to just come out with it.” 

Duke laughs a little, eyebrows raised. “Sam Winchester, are you breaking up with me?” he jokes.

“I’m trans,” Sam says, looking up at Duke. “I mean, I’m a girl. I mean, I’m a trans girl.” He casts his eyes to the side, darting them back to Duke to evaluate his reaction every two seconds.

It takes two blinks to catch up, his brain bringing up incongruent pictures of Nathan in his mind’s eye, which he knows is wrong. He’s seen Sam’s cock. Once he processes the full confession, he realizes that what Sam is talking about is the parallel-opposite problem to the one Nathan has. So Duke nods, lets his mental portrait of Sam adjust to this new information, and proceeds. “Okay,” he says.

Sam looks at him like he’s just said something bizarre, unexpected, offensive, or some mixture of the three. His--no, her eyebrows are mostly flat, the thumb shaped wrinkle between her eyebrows just starting to appear. She’s only squinting at him a little. “Okay?” she asks, incredulous.

In the back of his head, Duke wonders if he always gets this reaction from queer friends and partners because it doesn’t phase him at all, or because he seems like the intolerant hick type. He hopes to God it’s not the latter. “Yeah,” Duke says. “Okay.” He raises his eyebrows at Sam. “What am I gonna do? Throw things? Kick you out of my house?” 

Sam shrugs, lips pulled into a grimace.

He purses his lips at Sam, furrowing his eyebrows. “No,” Duke says. “No, what the fuck? I’m not gonna do that. You’re a girl, that’s your truth, and it’s damn brave to even admit it to yourself, especially considering where we live, and how the people in this park tend to talk.”

Sam’s eyebrows raise again, hopeful. “Do you really think so?”

“Damn, Sam,” Duke says. “We all know I’m a liar, but I thought you knew me better than that.”

Sam falls forward on her knees in her haste to get up. She leans forward between Duke’s legs and wrap her arms around his waist, tight. “Thank you,” she whispers, voice thick.

Duke pets her hair softly, her relief choking him. It makes him sad. It makes him so angry his veins could blister. Sam hasn’t been anything short of lovely since he met her, and she’s been living with all of this pain and anxiety and fear coiled up in her belly like a noose waiting to be used. He puts his beer down and leans around her, holding her shoulders, a shield between her and her home. He understands why she hasn’t told anyone yet. Dean sometimes sounds more like John than John does, and you don’t have to live thirty feet away to know how he feels about things that fall outside of his masculine, toxically nuclear way of thinking. 

Duke has previously been glad that John doesn’t have any daughters, and now Duke is very, very afraid.

He pulls back to look at Sam. He’s given pause by the tears on her cheeks. He wipes them away with his thumbs and leans down to give her a soft kiss on the mouth. He holds her face in his hands as he looks down at her. “Listen, Sam,” Duke says, voice soft. “If you need anything, anything at all. Don’t hesitate to ask me. Say okay.”

Sam nods as well as she can with her face in Duke’s hands. “Okay,” she whispers.

Duke kisses her forehead. “Get up off the floor. We both know it’s bad for kneeling.” He winks, and Sam lets out a dumb, wet little laugh. He helps her back onto the couch and goes to the master bedroom. He pulls an envelope out of the shoebox under the bed and dumps the contents into his hand. He replaces the box and goes back to the living room, sits back on the table.

He holds the key up for Sam to see. “This is the spare key to the trailer,” Duke says. “If you need inside for any reason, use it. It’s not a whole lot better than your room, but it’s outside those walls.” He takes Sam’s hand and folds the key into it.

“Duke,” Sam says softly. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” Duke insists, and he does. He wants Sam to be safe. Getting naked together aside, them even being friends, neighbors, classmates, aside, she deserves to be safe. Everyone deserves to be safe.

Sam pulls her hand from his grip and looks at the key. It’s a simple, barely shiny spare made by the local hardware store years and years ago. She tucks it back into her palm and then brings her other hand to Duke’s neck, pulling him in for another kiss. And another. And another. “Duke,” she whispers, “take me to bed.”

Duke, bone tired but eighteen, doesn’t have to be told twice.

“I stink,” Duke says, taking off his shirt as he follows her to his bedroom. “Probably.”

“Definitely,” she says with a coy smile on her lips that pops her dimples. “But, it’s okay. Trust me, I’ve smelled much worse than fish.”

Duke takes her word for it, because he doesn’t want to know what she’s smelled that was so bad that she’s willing to fuck him while he smells like this. It’s not long before his tank top is on the floor with his jeans and socks, leaving him in just his briefs and freeing him to turn his attention back to Sam.

He slides his fingers through the belt loops of her jeans and pulls her back against him, kissing her neck. He gets his hands up the front of her t-shirt, pushes it up until she takes it from him. He steps away while she pulls it over her head, and he walks around to her front, sliding his hands over her stomach until he reaches denim. He pops the button on jeans as she tosses her shirt away, and pulls her pants down her legs until he’s crouched in front of her. She slides a hand through his hair. He kisses the head of her cock through her briefs and then trails them up until he gets back to her neck. Duke cups her neck in his hands as she finishes the job, stepping out of her jeans and kicking them away, and he pulls her in, kissing her on the mouth. It’s a matter of steps backward until he gently pushes her down on his bed and rids her of her underwear, too. She retaliates in kind, long arms snaking out to snag his and pull them down. She gives him a firm smack on the ass and smiles, satisfied with herself.

Duke kneels between Sam’s legs and palms her cock. She inhales sharply, pushing her hips against him. Duke grins, stupid. “Baby Girl,” he says, “you’re gorgeous.”

Sam flushes a delightful pink down to her collarbone. Duke leans over and presses a kiss to it. She bats at him. “Duke,” she says. “Shut up and fuck me.”

Duke swallows. “I can do the latter,” he promises. He leans over and pulls a condom and lube out of the plastic top drawer of his ‘nightstand.’ He rips the condom wrapper open for later and pops open the cap of the lube, pouring some into his hand. He coats his fingers as well as he can and starts to slip one inside of her. She inhales pretty again, fisting a hand in his dingy blanket. “That’s it,” he whispers. He works her open, adding another finger when she makes an impatient noise. “What a good girl.”

Sam whines, high, and Duke doesn’t know if he’s ever been more turned on in his life. She presses her free hand to her face and says, “Shh!”

Duke hums, continuing to fuck her with his fingers. “Sam, baby,” he says. “If you really don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

Sam immediately grabs his wrist, making a soft little noise of frustration. “What am I?” she whispers, propping herself up on her elbow.

Duke smiles, slow and wide. “My perfect baby girl?”

He watches Sam swallow. She says, “Hurry up, Duke. I want you inside of me.”

“Now that,” Duke says, voice rough with arousal, “was just unfair, Baby Girl.” Duke slides another finger inside of her, and maybe is a little sloppy with the final preparation, but he’s so hard he thinks he might actually die if they don’t get on with it.

When he can’t take it anymore, Duke gently pulls his fingers out of her. He grabs the condom and slips it on, lubes himself up and slips inside of her, slow, until he bottoms out. He groans, low in his throat as Sam keens prettily underneath him. “Christ, Baby Girl,” he manages. “Do you know that you always feel like heaven?”

“Oh, God, Duke,” she whimpers. “Move, please. Jesus.”

Duke kisses her once, lightly, and then pulls out and presses back in, the downbeat of the rhythm he’s been fucking Sam to for months. He pulls one of Sam’s thighs over the curve of his hip and holds it there. She whimpers his name so sweet that if he didn’t know any better, he’d say he imagined it.

Sam fists one of her hands in his hair and holds tight as the tempo builds. She screws her eyes shut and Duke doesn’t know when the last time he saw a girl looking so pretty was. He skims his mouth over her neck, and as always, he’s careful not to leave marks with his teeth that another Winchester could see. That doesn’t stop him from sinking his teeth in, just hard enough to make her catch her breath.

Duke kisses her behind the ear. “That’s right,” he says. “Keep singing for me, Beautiful.” And, God, she does, crooning like an angel because there’s no one to hide it from here. They’re all alone, together, and it’s the closest thing to bliss they’ve ever felt.

Sam pulls his hair with enough force to drag him from her ear as he grazes her prostate. It forces a short, filthy series of curse words from his mouth and he feels his cock twitch inside of Sam. It’s almost a shame when she lets go, but she cups her palm around his tricep. She opens her eyes again and they’re dark, pupils blown. “Duke,” she says. “Duke, please, I’m so close.” She’s desperate, and it sets him on fire.

He lets go of her thigh and reaches up to stroke her cock in time with the rhythm in his head. “Are you gonna come pretty for me, Baby Girl?” he asks softly. “Are you gonna spoil me like I’ve spoiled you?”

“Yes!” she promises. There are tears beaded in her eyelashes. Her voice quivers. “Yes, yes, yes, I’ll come so pretty for you that you never forget it.”

Duke is convinced that he died at work today and none of this is real. “Good girl,” he says, with some semblance of composure. “Then you can come for me.”

She digs her nails in, coming over his hand. She moans long and loud, and if there was anyone in her trailer, they’d definitely hear it. He fucks her through it, watching her writhe and arch. It’s breathtaking, the way it’s been since he saw it the first time. And, she’s right. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to forget the way her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks, or the way her hummingbird pulse beats in her neck, or the way a sheen of sweat sparkles up from the hollow of her neck like a jewel.

Sam looks up at him, still taking heaving breaths. She takes his hand from around her cock and maintains eye contact as she licks her come from his hand, and that’s what does it. His rhythm stutters like a scratched record as he comes, eyes locked on her tongue on his hand. He crumples his sheets in his other hand. “Oh,” he whispers, “my God, Baby Girl.” He feels hot and cold and numb.

She sticks his finger in her mouth to finish cleaning it and pulls it out with an obscene pop. She smiles at him, that same infuriating, wonderful coy smile from before. “Was I good?” She lets him have his hand back.

“The best,” he promises. “The best girl I’ve ever had.” She preens, and he pulls out of her. He ties off the condom and tosses it at the trashcan. He falls forward, half on top of her and says, “Fuck.”

Sam laughs. “I agree.” She brushes his hair behind his ear. “Is it alright if I spend the night?”

“Sam. Baby,” Duke says. “I gave you a key. You can spend as many nights as you want.”


End file.
